


Through Sickness and Health

by bitterglitter



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic, baz is my angst child, doesnt mean it ended that way, it started out fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 19:53:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5177642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitterglitter/pseuds/bitterglitter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Shut up.” Snow muttered and moved closer to snuggle against Baz’s side. “Ice packs don’t talk.” </p><p>“Chosen Ones don’t get sick,” Baz countered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through Sickness and Health

The first time Baz ever saw Snow sick, properly sick and not just a small head cold, was at the worst possible time; the winter of fifth year. Baz had already resigned himself at that point to his foolish, stupid crush on Simon Snow and was quietly suffering as the days went on. He was sure if Snow didn't kill him someday soon, Baz was going do it himself. 

He had found out after a day of Snow-less classes and the lack of Snow's ever constant presence. Snow had been following him all year after suspecting Baz as a vampire, and as annoying as Baz found it, he also seemed to miss Snow's less than quiet sneaking. (When he realized this he was ready to stake himself and put himself out of this misery.) The first few classes Baz was able to get through without much too much worry, Snow had followed him all night long and no doubt stayed up even later, so of course he'd sleep in. By lunch he was unable to eat, his stomach twisting in worry hen he saw Bunce and Wellbelove sitting alone. His afternoon classes were torture as he forced himself not to think of Snow (something that grew harder to do every passing day). At the end of the day he defiantly wasn't running towards their room with worry crawling up his throat. 

Their door swung open with an “Open Sesame” and he stomped in, blood boiling and ready to start yelling at Snow for missing classes and not making him worry. He surveyed the room, looking anywhere from his annoying, a̶t̶t̶r̶a̶c̶t̶i̶v̶e roommate, sneering when he saw a lump on the bed.

"Honestly, Snow," Baz started as he walked over. "I'm flattered you'll spend all night stalking me, but I don't really care for answering to our teachers were you are when you can't even be bothered to get up out of bed." He grabbed the end of Snow's blanket and pulled back, the cloth fluttering into the air. His body froze at the sight in front of him. 

"Nooo," Snow whimpered in a soft and scratchy voice. Baz was sure he never would have heard the words if he wasn't actually a vampire. Snow laid curled up in a ball, pressed up against the wall. Another blanket laid over him and he wore a sweater, but he was still shivering. His usual tan skin now looked almost as pale as Baz and his golden brown curls were flattened against his forehead. The only color left in Snow was his red cheeks and bright red nose, even his blue eyes seemed dull. 

"Crowley, Snow, you look like hell." The words left Baz's mouth before he could even think to stop it.

Snow replied with a cough, he clutched his chest and curled further in on himself. "Thanks, Baz," his voice was so raspy it made Baz flinch, "I hadn't noticed."

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you have gone to the nurse by now?" Baz repressed the urge to check Snow for a fever. He was _not_ going to act like a mother hen over Snow.

"Too tired. Almost threw up. Sleep now."

Snow made a fruitless attempt to grab his blanket back, half swinging his arm up and then letting it fall limp across the bed. he looked half awake and miserable. Baz knew he should be feeling something akin to happiness at the sight. Here was his arch nemesis, vulnerable and suffering right in front of him. He should be taunting Snow with glee, relishing in how pathetic he looked. The Mage's Chosen One, bested by a simple cold. Instead he only felt...pity. And more worry.

He made himself sick.

Baz tossed the blanket back onto Snow and turned on his heel, hurrying towards his bed. "Well, now that I've solved the mystery of where you went off to, I'll get back to _important_ things."

Only a groan from Snow came as a response.

...

It took less than fifteen minutes for Baz to crack.

Fifteen long minutes of Baz staring at his books, trying to unsuccessfully absorb any material from them as he did his best to ignore Snow's sneezes and coughs. He flipped a page in a rather dramatic fashion, just to hear the noise over a particularly bad coughing fit. As the sun went down, Snow seemed to just get worse.

Snow groaned and hacked into a tissue before jumped up with a louder groan. Baz could see Snow flinch back into the bed and pull his blankets up to his nose, carefully watching Baz hurry from the room. He ignored the looks he got from passing students, wondering what on earth Baz Pitch was running around school at this time of night for. Several minutes and a polite conversation with the cook later, Baz was climbing back to his room with a tray of crackers and tea.

He honestly didn't know why he was doing this, he grumbled to himself.

When Baz got back, Snow had curled himself into a blanket burrito form head to toe, only a few curls of hair peeking out. Baz set the tray down on his desk and silently walked over to the bed. The blankets rose and fell with Snow's breathing and Baz couldn't help but watch for a moment.

"Rise and shine, Snow!" Baz yanked the blankets off again and sneered at Snow's yelp. He made sure to hold the warm blankets just out of Snow's reach as he pathetically grabbed for them.

"Fuck off, Baz," Snow rasped and glared at him.

"Amazing. Even your attempt at a glare is pathetic. I didn't think you could ever become more useless than before, but here we are." Baz dropped the blankets to the floor and Snow's arm fell with it.

"I hate you. You're a terrible person. Just let me die in peace." Snow rolled over so his back faced Baz and curled up again, bringing his knees to his chest.

"I am a delight, Snow. And I can't let you die like this, it would ruin my future plans at killing you later." Baz smirked at the rude gesture Snow sent his way. "Now, now. Don't be like that. I've decided to take pity on you-" Snow cursed under his breath "and help you get better."

Snow peeked over his shoulder with another, more intense glare. "My ass you did," he hissed before his eyes widened and a coughing fit bubbled up from his throat.

Baz finally allowed himself to touch Snow, leaning down to pat his back as he coughed. He ignored the way Snow flinched away from his touch, continuing to pat until the coughing died down. Instead of continuing to move away, Snow laid limp on the bed, staring up at the ceiling in a daze. Baz moved his hand away form Snow's back to his forehead, flinching at how hot he was. "You're burning up!"

Snow leaned into his cool hand, closing his eyes. "Can I have my blanket back now?"

Sighing, Baz leaned down and pulled the blanket back up onto the bed. "Well, now that I know you're not going to pass out on me, I _suppose_ so." He placed the blanket back on Snow before turning to walk into the bathroom.

In the bathroom he turned on the cool water of the sink and got a soft rag wet. One of his early memories included his mother doing just this the last time he got sick. Apparently, getting sick as a vampire is quite difficult- but Baz wasn't complaining. With the rag in hand, Baz hurried back out to see Snow half asleep again. He placed the rag on Snow's forehead and tried to think of what else he could possibly do. He wasn't god at taking care of people, much less comforting. Maybe he should go find Bunce? She'd know what to do.

He sneered at the thought of him letting her into their room.

"Still feel like death, Snow?" Baz muttered and Snow sighed.

Snow opened an eye to peek up at him. "Thirsty."

"So we've moved on to one word sentences? Like it wasn't hard enough to understand you already," Baz grumbled, but he moved towards the try he had brought up. The silence between him and Snow was filled with coughing. "Here," Baz came back with a cup of hot tea, "this should help your throat."

Snow managed to sit up slightly, blankets pooling around him, and reached for the cup. If the hot tea burnt his hands, Snow didn't complain. Instead he took a large gulp of tea and relaxed slightly. He kept taking large, irritating gulps until all the tea was gone. Baz held in the need to scold Snow for his awful habits, it wasn't like scolding him before did anything. He was still the same messy, clumsy idiot Baz had met on the first day of school.

Snow fell back onto the bed and closed his eyes. Baz took the cup from him, knowing that if he didn't Snow would forget he had it at all, and set it aside as Snow buried himself into the bed.

Baz looked him over, frowning at how Snow looked like he was just about to pass out. "I'll check up on you in a little while," the traitorous promise escaped his lips before he could stop it. He quickly turned, ready to bury himself in his bed for all eternity.

A hand wrapped around his wrist, stopping him. He looked over his shoulder and at Simon, who seemed to be looking back or perhaps through Baz. It was hard to tell with his fog-filled eyes. He tugged on Baz's arm and Baz raised an eyebrow. He tugged again and frowned with frustration that Baz wasn't doing... _something._ Baz wasn't exactly sure what Snow expected of him.

"You're...cold." Snow admitted and tugged again, as if that explained anything.

"I'm aware." Baz's eyes narrowed into a half-hearted glare. "Your constant complaining reminds me every day."

"Cold." Snow repeated and tugged a final time and Baz let Snow pull him back. He sat down on the bed and Snow brought his hand up to press against his cheek. "Cold."

Oh. _Oh._

"I'm not your personal ice pack, Snow." Baz tried to lace his usual venom into his voice, but almost all his aggression ha d melted away by now.

Snow offered a tiny smile, his cracked lips turning up. "You are now."

Yeah, Baz already knew he was.

"You're insufferable, Snow." Baz rolled his eyes, but he started to kick off his shoes and lay down in the bed next to him.

"You're stupid."

"What an eloquent comeback."

"Shut up." Snow muttered and moved closer to snuggle against Baz's side. "Ice packs don't talk."

"Chosen Ones don't get sick," Baz countered.

"I hate you," Snow said, still smiling. He closed his eyes and Baz could see him start to drift off.

Baz was wrong. He had gotten everything so wrong for the past five years. This was how he was going to die; not a stake to the heart, but taking care of Simon Snow. Of bloody course he was.

...

It was pitch black outside when Baz woke up. He hadn't realized he had drifted off next to Snow until his eyes opened and the only light in the room was faint moonlight. Baz groaned and started to sit up, but was stuck in his position.

Even though he was deathly sick, Snow had a death grip around Baz. The blankets had been kicked around, no doubt due to Snow's awful nature of being a restless sleeper.

Baz sighed and looked over at Snow, who was fast asleep. Even through the dark Baz could see how sick Snow looked, his face still pale and his cheeks too red. Baz managed to wiggle himself onto his side to face Snow. How the hell did Snow manage to do that? Look horrifyingly ill and desperately attractive in the same moment? Baz knew he was screwed, so, so screwed.

"Why do I love you?" Baz hissed, keeping his voice low enough so not to wake Snow up. "I should hate you, despise you- and I do. But why do I also love you? You're insufferable, annoying, terrible with magic, and too perfect. I hate it. I hate you... But you already know that." The words trailed off until Baz wasn't sure he was speaking anymore, if just mouthing them.

Snow knew that Baz hated him, he hated Baz back.

Why didn't his heart know, then? Maybe his emotions got hatred confused with love and what was causing the beating of his heart and his thoughts to fill with Snow was all a big mistake. An error Baz just had to fix.

Baz snorted at that. He'd had months to fix it, he had tried everything he could think of. It all went back to Snow in the end.

"I've already accepted one of us will kill the other." He lied in a small voice, watching the moonlight cast over Snow's face. He was tempted, oh so tempted to lean in and ~~kill~~ ~~kiss~~ ~~strangle~~ ~~hug~~ _something_ Snow. I'm doomed," that was the one thing he knew with absolute certainty.

Snow groaned and squeezed his eyes shut tighter. "Hmm?" He slowly cracked open his eyes, peeking out to look at Baz. The confused look on his face defiantly wasn't adorable. "Baz?"

"Shh." Baz whispered and felt himself give in slightly. He brought his hand up to press his thumb against Snow's lips gently, silencing the sick boy. They were chapped and hot and Baz was slowly dying. "Go back to sleep, Simon."

He could feel the smile against his thumb as Snow closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep. Once Baz was sure Snow's breathing even out and he was asleep again, Baz turned his head to press into the pillow and resisted the urge to scream.

The pillow smelled like smoke and Simon.

...

Baz woke up once more and this time light filled the room. He was only half awake, his brain filled with the smokey smell of Snow and warmth wrapped around his body. He was usually so cold, he pressed himself further into the bed.

Suddenly Baz realized- if he was in his bed it shouldn't smell like smoke. It shouldn't be this warm. The light shouldn't be hitting him like this. He shot up so fast he almost fell off the bed and looked around wildly.

Someone chuckled next to him and Baz slowly looked over, dread filling him. Snow sat crossed legged on his bed, still pale but with more color in his face. His curls were beginning to come back to life and the fog over his blue eyes was slowly dissipating to the regular blue they were. Snow shoved another cracker from the stack he had gathered into his mouth to hide his laugh. 

It didn't work. 

Yesterday came flooding back to Baz and he lightly pushed Snow's shoulder, minding that he was most likely still sick. "How dare you laugh at me after I spent last night taking care of you!" He hissed, silently pleased he was able to properly glare at Snow again without any guilt or worry. 

"Not my fault you're lame," Snow muttered, his voice less scratchy than before. 

Baz bared his teeth, minding to hide his fangs and took pleasure at how Snow's eyes widened in slight panic. "Just you wait until the next time you're sick. I won't be wasting my time taking care of you. 'Oh, well, Snow it's not _my fault you're sick_ '." He started to toss the blankets away and twisted his body to get out of bed, Snow snickering as he did so. 

Baz was on his feet when a hand wrapped around his wrist again and suddenly it felt like last night. He turned, doing his best to keep the annoyed look in his eyes. It seemed to work judging by the slight guilt in Snow's expression. "Um, Baz. I-ugh, I just wanted to say that- you know that I-um-" he started to ramble.

It went on for several more seconds before Baz let out an exasperated groan, cutting Snow off, and rolled his eyes. "Use your words, Snow."

Snow's eyes narrowed at that, Baz knew saying that always pissed him off. He cleared his throat. "Shut up, Baz. I just wanted to... thank you...for taking care of me last night." He forced the thank yo out and then looked away, the red in his cheeks darkening.

Baz felt his muscles tense and his mouth go dry. How strange to be thanked by your arch nemesis-also-crush-who-hates-you. "... Don't mention it. Seriously."

Snow laughed, hardly coughing while he did o. "Wasn't planning on it."

He had seemed to forget that he was still holding Baz's wrist until Baz yanked it away. He ignored the stinging feeling at the loss of contact. "Don't you think you're getting out of this without giving something back. You owe me now," Baz smirked.

"I figured as much." Snow brought his shoulders up slightly in a shrug and moved off the bed to stand up. "Still...thanks."

"Stop saying that, it's weird."

"No as weird as you." Snow reached out and poked Baz's chest. "I'm gonna go take a shower."

Baz swallowed and turned towards his bed. "I don't care. Do whatever you want, just don't get me sick."

"Little late for that," Snow muttered and walked over to the bathroom. He reached the door as Baz sat on his bed, but Snow paused. He looked over at Baz until Baz looked up, the feeling of Snow's gaze on him making his skin heat up. "By the way," Snow said as the start of a grin worked it's way onto his face. "I remember you calling me Simon last night."

Fuck. Baz's eyes widened and he thanked the stars that he couldn't blush. Instead he grabbed one of his pillows and threw it at Snow, yelling that he in fact did not call him that and _never will._ Snow dodged it, ducking into the bathroom laughing all the way.

Baz was so screwed. He had started to accept that, accept this stupid love of his would be a fact of his life until Simon ended him. He'd love Simon up to and beyond the moment his sword would be thrust into Baz's chest or if Simon went off too close. He'd burn and fall accepting this.

He laid down on the bed, thrust his head into his pillow, and screamed.


End file.
